


Day 5: Chrometophobia

by orphan_account



Series: Feartober Prompts (Abandoned) [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Halloween Challenge, Horror, October Prompt Challenge, Phobias, spooky season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Chrometophobia is described as the fear of money or wealthTriggers: Mention of alcohol, implied abuse, mention of poverty, & strong description of monster
Series: Feartober Prompts (Abandoned) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947484





	Day 5: Chrometophobia

**Author's Note:**

> Monster is based off of Shawn Coss's work (from his Se7en Sins series)  
> This prompt was a little difficult to write for

Henry tapped his fingers against the wooden table. It was this dream again. The one where he sat in an expensive-looking chair in a gaudy room waiting to talk with the master. He kept his eyes solely on the glossy wood in front of him. Looking anywhere else left a bitter taste in his mouth. The soft thudding of footsteps drew his attention. Smoke started to float through the room. Henry didn’t look up until he heard a chair get pulled out before pushing back in. He sat straight up to glare at the thing sitting across from him. Long, white fingers tapped against the wood table. Rings and bracelets covered sickly-looking skin. A few gold chain necklaces bumped against its chest. The thing looked to be starving yet focused on the jewels twinkling on its hand instead of the basket of food sitting to the side. Smoke pumped out of smokestacks that protruded from the thing’s head and shoulders. Henry clenched his jaw as it spoke, “Good evening, Henry. Shall we get down to business?” The deep voice echoed in Henry’s head. The thing had no mouth to speak with. It lacked a nose and two dollar-signs replaced eyes in wide, empty sockets.

  


Henry watched it pour a glass of whiskey before sliding it over to him. A bitter smile curled onto his face, “You keep forgetting I don’t like alcohol.” The glass made a soft noise as he slid it back across the table. It shrugged, “I’m just trying to be a good host.” Henry leaned back in his chair, “What do you want from me?” It swirled the booze in the glass, “You know what I want. I want you to stop pulling these stunts.” Henry tried to push down the anxiety brewing in his gut, “What stunts?” The smoke turned from white to a dark gray and puffed out faster, “You could have so much more. You could live in luxury and yet you live below your means. I want more.” It leaned forward, “You want more. I know you do. Why won’t you give in?” Henry stood up and marched towards the door, “Because giving in to that would be giving in to you. I’ve avoided that for forty years and I’ll avoid it for forty more.” The door opens with a loud creak and slams shut. Henry slowly blinked his eyes open as sleep released him from its grasp. He picked up his phone to check the time. It was 4 a.m. Henry let his head fall back onto his pillow. He wasn’t going to be going back to sleep.

  


Anyone who knew Henry would say that he had a thing about money. That he hated spending a lot and reacted poorly to being given any expensive gifts. He gave away most of his money to charity and lived in a small apartment. Most people could give no explanation as to why. Those who knew Henry more personally would say that it was probably from his upbringing. That the man had grown up in poverty. That he was so used to having so little that having a lot is unnerving to him. Henry didn’t bother to correct them. It didn’t matter that they had no clue about the monster that haunted his dreams. That he woke up in a cold sweat with the faint smell of smoke clinging to him. How his family had only been so poor because his father had given in and obsessed over his personal wealth to the point that his mother left with him and his siblings. Henry wouldn’t fall into the same pattern. He wouldn’t let himself. He knew that although the words it spoke sounded so sweet that it would lead to nothing less than ruin.


End file.
